


[Un]broken

by City_Of_Paper_And_Ink



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, Protective Andrew Minyard, Rape/Non-con Elements, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23236309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/City_Of_Paper_And_Ink/pseuds/City_Of_Paper_And_Ink
Summary: These are eight small, and big, scenes that span the three books but I wanted them to be in Andrew's POV because his mind is so interesting to be in. The first one starts out with Drake but I really thought that adding it in gives the rest of the stories some sort of backbone to how Andrew is, and the scene isn't long because I couldn't do that to myself. Also the song lyrics for each scene is Broken by Anson Seabra!Anyway enough rambling and I hope you enjoy! <3I wanted to say that this does does deal with major trigger warnings throughout it, since we are dealing with Andrew, and the last thing I want is for someone to be blindsided by them.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	[Un]broken

“If you see the boy I used to be  
Could you tell him that I’d like to find him”  
~  
The door closed on Andrew’s room, a darkness settling over him once again. This time a welcome reprieve, one not clouded with vileness. Andrew listened intently as Drake’s footsteps led away from his room and toward his own a few doors down the hallway; he wished he could move, to wash away the sweat and darkness clothed on him that wasn’t his own, but he was paralyzed for now. 

Instead he focused on his breathing, trying to calm his sputtering breaths and caving chest. Andrew didn’t know how his heart hadn’t burst from his chest yet, and some days he wished it would. 

Tonight was one of those times.

Slowly he uncurled his fingers, straightening them from their fist shape. He felt the divits in the palm of his flesh, courtesy of his nails driving into it. With feeling returning to his limbs, Andrew felt for the edges of the bed since he couldn’t get up on his own yet, attaching his hand on the corner to pull himself up into a sitting position.

It wasn’t his smartest move.

Pain flared instantly along his lower back, and he almost whimpered not due to the pain, but to the memories it evoked from his brain. A feeling of hands touching him and whispers in his ears made him swat at his head and squeeze his eyes shut hard enough that pain resounded from his eyelids, enough to counteract the memories. 

Carefully, oh so carefully, Andrew swung his legs over the side of the bed. He could see past the curtained windows the moon’s brightness, casting a path through his room. Standing up, Andrew shuffled toward his bathroom connected to his bedroom, stopping by his door to hear for any noise resounding from the hallway; hearing nothing he breathed deeper and made his way to the bathroom, turning on the light and looking in the mirror.

Andrew’s hair was storm tossed; his blond hair poked this way and that, not conforming to any one way. His pajama top was a wrinkled mess, and he wore no pants; his underwear were currently on the floor by his bed.

Opening the drawer in the bathroom he found his extra pair of underwear he stored in there and put them on, leaning against the sink for support. Finishing his only task Andrew sank to the floor, his body weight against the closed door and the view of the razor blades in sight. He swallowed, the sound audible in his ears, and looked instead to his own forearms. The crosshatches making a horrid pattern across his skin.

Death wasn’t his goal, he wanted to survive this part of the family so he could live with the other, with Cass and the celebrated birthdays and everything he had ever wished for his whole life.

‘A family.’ He whispered to himself, words he wished someone would say to him one day. 

~  
“And if you see the shell that’s left of me  
Could you spare him a little kindness”  
~  
Cass dropped a letter onto the counter where Andrew was currently inhaling his Capt’n Crunch cereal— peanut butter variation. 

Andrew’s spoon was halfway to his mouth when he paused and lowered the utensil, not knowing what to make of the manila envelope that was currently invading his breakfast space. The return address was from California, and Andrew went from confused to suspicious in a heartbeat; he could feel his palms sweaty from an unknown variable coming into play, and didn’t know if he should even open the letter, but intrigue won out. 

Looking up at Cass, she was situated by the sink now, he wondered if she was curious about the letter too, if he should read it in the kitchen and have her present for whatever was in it. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Andrew quickly changed his train of thought and snatched the envelope before Drake could down and see it and proceeded toward the side door, putting on a pair of flip flops before opening the sliding door and finding himself in the backyard. 

He went towards one of the old oak trees that stood sentient in the yard and sat under it to provide some shade from the summer heat that tore into his pale skin. Andrew stared at the letter again, seeing if his brain was finally malfunctioning and had created an illusion of what he held in his hands.

It stayed the same.

Andrew slowly unpeeled the back, trying not to rip the envelope too badly to salvage the return address, and opened up the contents of the paper meticulously folded inside. Andrew leaned back against the tree, feeling the bark through his plain black tee he wore; the feeling grounded him as he read the words written on the paper, and he couldn’t comprehend what he was reading. 

He had a brother, a twin. He had a family.

His mind blanked out, and he didn’t know what to make of this development.  
.  
.  
.  
Andrew stared up at the house Nicky had procured for all three of them to live in: Aaron, Nicky, and himself. It could almost be called more of a renovation plea; the tiles on the roof were completely ruined, and the gutters full of leaves even though there were no trees in the front yard to help with that predicament. Paint from the sides of the house was peeling like an excavation dig, chipping white paint coming off slowly and ruggedly. 

Andrew heard Aaron mumble something by the car as he grabbed his bag, but Andrew didn’t say anything or ask him to speak louder. He wasn’t in awe of the house, in fact he hated it, but he didn’t actually expect this to happen: him meeting Aaron and being able to steer him clear of Drake and rid him of their mother. Meeting Nicky who wanted to help, even though he had someone waiting for him in Germany, and Andrew agreeing to it. It was all surreal.  
Andrew was waiting to wake up any moment back in hell. 

Nicky cheerfully walked past Andrew— knowing already not to touch Andrew without telling him and having verbal consent— toward the door, key in hand. Following Nicky, Andrew and Aaron got the first look at their new home. 

It wasn’t anything special. The rugs carpeting in the living room was musty and needed to be thrown out. The kitchen wasn’t too much of a mess, with a coffee maker already stationed on the counter by the cupboards, and a table and chairs set up. Nicky set down the food he had brought in, plastic containers of rice bowls from a Mexican restaurant down the street from them, and went back out to grab their drinks still left in the car. 

Aaron put his bag down by his chair and sat down, typing something on his phone before he put it aside as Nicky came back in, flourishing their drinks in their faces. Aaron made a face, but Andrew could see the small twitch of his lips that he was amused at Nicky’s antics. It paid to have a twin, since Andrew knew how to read him; they had some of the same mannerisms.

The meal was filled with small talk from Nicky about different jobs he saw, one working at a bar called Eden’s Twilight, and Aaron answering back to some of his statements. Andrew didn’t say anything throughout the meal, but that didn’t mean he hated the conversation. He listened to them chatter back and forth like family and tried to reconcile that he now had a brother, a cousin, a home that couldn’t be taken away from him. 

For the first time in his life, he was willing to play along with life’s games. He was excited for tomorrow, and the day after. 

~  
“Cause I've been high and I’ve been low  
I’ve spent a thousand nights alone, tryna hold on tight.”  
~  
The roar of the courtroom drowned out all cohesive thoughts from Andrew’s brain as he took in his sentence from the judge, nothing showing on his apathetic face.

Five years.

He leaned forward in his seat and rolled his stiff shoulders, the only hint that he was tense. Inside Andrew’s thoughts became white noise, a cloud nothing could penetrate except Nicky’s beaten and bruised face, and Aaron’s look, a mix of almost pity and disappointment in the court’s decision. 

The police came over towards him from the wall they had been stationed by to keep peace, and went to grab his arms to haul Andrew out of his seat. On the first touch of their fingertips Andrew immediately leaned away, moving his body before they could get a better grip on his arms. He knew if he invoked any sudden movement they would only grip him tighter, but Andrew couldn’t care. 

Not anymore.

The two male guards tried again and found purchase on his forearms, Andrew only allowing the touch this time because his arm bands were on. He tried to move his wrists around, undoing the ache in them underneath the handcuffs they had put on his person. Leading him off to an adjacent room to be picked up, he saw in his peripheral Aaron and Nicky; the former gave a perceptive nod; the latter looking both physically and mentally exhausted.

Andrew had done that to Nicky, but he couldn’t care. He had protected his own and like always karma was paying him back for his behavior.

He thought of the four men that had attacked Nicky outside of Eden’s Twilight a mere two weeks ago, and couldn’t find a shred of regret for what he did to them. He didn’t do regret. 

With the guards now leading him into the room, he took in its plain grandeur; its white walls only adding to Andrew’s sense of imprisonment, and he sat down at one of the metal chairs stuck to the floor. Putting his hands on top of the metal table in front of him, Andrew waited for the next riveting installment in his fucked up life. He didn’t know how it could get any worse, and almost laughed out loud at the thought of something worse they could throw at him.

The drugs came not long after that.  
~  
“And feelings come but they won’t go  
Please won’t someone take me home before I lose my mind”  
~  
‘Fuck’

Andrew’s mind supplied the photos to his brain, his fingers, his stomach as he took in Neil Josten, who watched the passerbyers around him in the airport. His dull brown eyes piercing into everyone around him except to where Andrew stood, hidden by one of the standing pillars in the lobby.

Neil Josten was a mix of emotions, sights, and senses on Andrew’s drug addled brain, adding things and wishes he had no reason to be thinking about and no real hope for them to come true. All he wanted was to make sure Neil didn’t become a threat to his family— having Nicky stay back at campus, and switching his personality with Aaron to keep them both safe— but he realized Neil wouldn’t be a threat to them, he would be a threat to Andrew.

Neil finally finished taking stock of the people around him, finalizing something in his brain that Andrew couldn’t yet understand, and started out the door to where Andrew stood present. Coming out from behind the alcove Andrew took in Neil’s outfit, finding it horrendous; he wore an oversized sweater and pair of sweats, his shoes looking to be about ready to fall of his feet, and his hair was a mess, curls sticking out at every conceivable angle and them some. There was one particular cowlick that Neil didn’t seem to see, even though it was situated right in his line of vision. 

Andrew’s fingers itched to move it out of the way, his body stimulated since the drugs weren’t there to counteract his thoughts. 

‘Stop it’ 

He set his features into an Aaron like facade, wondering if this Exy junkie would ever realize what was happening now; if he did, Andrew didn’t know what he would do.

No one ever paid close attention to him.

“Neil.” He said as the man came up to him, his striking features making Andrew want to punch something even more. Or someone. “Baggage claim.”

Neil shook his head, indicating with his hand that the duffle he hauled around and the contents inside were the only things he owned. Andrew’s interest rose.

He led Neil back out toward where the sleek black car was and unlocked the trunk for Neil to stow his bag. While Neil proceeded to get in the car, Andrew took a drag from his cigarette he had started on on the way out of the airport, trying to place his thoughts in a coherent list of some sort before dealing with Neil Josten for the remainder of the ride. 

Andrew knew Neil was lying about everything; he couldn’t find anything about the man when he dug through Wymack’s files earlier in the week. His family would have to stay away from Neil while he made a final decision on what to do with him, if he was safe to be around.  
There would not be another incident like Drake.

Finished with his cigarette, Andrew conceded to himelf that Neil wasn’t like Drake; he wasn’t fucking naieve, but he knew the difference between lying to keep yourself safe, and lying to keep others safe, and Neil was playing at both, a dangerous game.

‘A pipe dream.’  
~  
“Am I broken?  
Am I flawed?  
Do I deserve a shred of worth or am I  
Just another fake fucked up lost cause?”  
~  
Andrew thought after taking Kevin in to protect him, that that was his penance for whatever higher entity deemed his past actions unforgiving, but now he felt like a fucking sheep herder with all the work it took to take the two idiots from wandering off. He looked up at the rafters of the Foxhole Court as he listened to Kevin and Neil practise, their small quips at each other seemed almost endearing, if Andrew could actually feel empathy.

At the moment his emotional level was crying out for another dose of his medication, but since he was heading off to bed after the two Exy addicts were done with their late night cult ritual, Andrew had stopped his medication a few hours ago. Now all he could concentrate on was a pounding headache and a need to bash someone’s head into a wall to let him sleep. 

The scuffles on the Court stopped, and Andrew momentarily thought they had finally killed each other, but that was wishful thinking. Andrew lifted his head from the bleacher he was laying on and saw Neil picking up the balls scattered around the one end of the Court. 

All Andrew could do was stare, and hope that after he was finally off his meds for good that whatever pipe dream his mind had conjured up for him would be gone. He didn’t see the point in hoping that Neil was real; he already knew he wasn’t, at least not the name. But some miniscule part of Andrew hoped that when this whole nightmare with fucking Riko and the Ravens were over, Neil would be left standing. It would be something to keep him entertained at least.  
Neil finished collecting and storing the supplies, and locked the door to the room. Turning around, he caught Andrew staring at him. Neil quickly put his head down, he must have taken the ‘no staring’ rule to heart at least for tonight; it was pure luck for Andrew as well, since the tips of his ears had started to turn a delicious red colour.

‘Fuck’  
Somewhere in the adjacent rooms Kevin slammed a door, signalling for Neil that he was finished and would be waiting in the car; he didn’t have to help Neil clean up since he said it was good monotonous training to do.

Andrew thought Kevin was just fucking lazy. 

Neil moved into the lounge area, and Andrew followed, passing the showers and situated himself on one of the couches to wait for Neil. He leaned his head back and listened to the shower run and then the locker slamming shut. Opening his eyes, Andrew saw a still semi-wet Neil walking into the room, his bag now slung over his shoulder holding his gear he kept at Fox Tower. 

Andrew drew himself up to stand, but Neil made a hand gesture and sat down on the opposite side of the couch, giving enough space between the two of them to make Andrew not feel caged in. His rating of Neil was now at 75%.

“I’m asking you this now, since I know a straight answer won’t be possible in the morning when you’re on medication.” Neil fiddled with his ragged hoodie he was wearing as he spoke to Andrew, looking both utterly out of fashion and still making Andrew’s pulse race faster.  
Andrew said nothing, but Neil wasn’t expecting him to. Andrew watched as he formed a coherent question, or about as close to one Neil Josten could make.

“Why do you let them call you a monster? Not only you, but also your family?”  
‘Double question, double debt.’ Andrew thought as he took in the question. It wasn’t hard to answer, and it didn’t deal with any hard truths, but still held some importance for Neil to know apparently. 

“My ‘family’ is associated with me, so they get the name attached on, and I let them because they’re not wrong.”

“But they are.” Neil demanded, looking at Andrew so seriously that his heart stuttered for a hare's breath. 

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.” Andrew replied, putting a warning tone in his voice. Apparently Neil didn’t hear it or he didn’t care, either could have been possible.

“Yes I do. I know you well enough to see that you look out for the people you care for, even if you push them away from you. I see you concede to Coach’s demands even though you could easily say no to worsen the team, which would lead to Kevin leaving. That means that you also care about him, so I don’t seeę—”

“Stop.”

Neil abruptly stopped his sentence, looking at Andrew and knowing he had to tread carefully. Andrew didn’t understand Neil, one minute he was preaching at Andrew and then the next he knew he needed to stop. He was incorrigible.

He was a pipedream.

“I let them, because then they don’t expect anything from me. This way if I do something in their eyes as terrible, they don’t see that as a tear in my morales, since to them I don’t have one.”

Neil stared at him as he said this, and Andrew stared back. It was like a game of tennis, seeing who would fumble on the return. But the issue was both of them were too good to fumble.

“Don’t you want to not be weighed down by something in the past. Something that wasn’t even your fault.” Neil asked, whispering as if talking to himself. Andrew knew this stemmed into a personal issue, and he didn’t have it in himself to tear into Neil to learn more. 

He hadn’t had that wish for a while now. 

Andrew clicked his touch, wrenching Neil out of whatever self deprecating place he had been in, and motioned to the clock. Neil took the hint that the conversation for now was over, and that Kevin was waiting for them in the car. They stood and made their way out of the room, shutting off the lights and locking the door behind them. 

Back in the car, Kevin was fast asleep in the back seat, and Neil took the passenger side as Andrew started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. The ride was silent, but Andrew felt as if Neil had given him something, a piece of himself that he still juggled with and hurt. 

“I don’t care.”

Neil pulled away from the side window he was peering through, confusion written on his face. “What?”

“I don’t care what other people think of me, that’s why the name doesn’t matter. I haven’t done everything they say, and they don’t understand my reasoning for what I have done.”

Neil seemed to take that in, and Andrew could see Neil looking at him from the peripheral of his vision.

“Okay.” Was all he said, but the meaning behind the word was more than that. It sounded like acceptance on some part for Neil himself, for his conscience, and to say thank you to Andrew for answering the question.

“80%” Andrew muttered. Neil smiled.

Andrew slept a little lighter that night. 

~  
“And am I human?  
Or am I something else?  
‘Cause I’m so scared and there’s no one there  
To save me from the nightmare that I call myself.”  
~  
“Oh, no,” Andrew said. “I am only here because Neil whined at me until I agreed to come along. Leave me out of this.”

Andrew knew deep down he was on two separate playing fields; the first one, the one the drugs diluted, knew something was amiss. He could see it in the way Luther had looked at him earlier when they arrived and again now as he went into the kitchen to get away from that lying bastard and his wife. The only reason he was here was because Neil asked, and his brain was too thoroughly infatuated with him to say no.

The door to the patio creaked open, and Andrew turned to see Luther in the doorway. Andrew smiled; this was his other level, the one that smiled and couldn’t fucking pay attention to anything for long before it floated away from him like leaves in the wind. 

Luther cleared his throat. “There’s, uh, alcohol upstairs. I’m going to get the desert ready. Why don’t you go grab it?” 

Andrew knew it was a lie, but he could only laugh. “My my Luther. Are you asking me to do something, because I don’t do things out of the goodness of my own heart. I’ve been told I don’t have one to begin with.”

Luther grimaced, and tried again. “You can have one of the bottles for later, all I’m asking is to help with dinner, couldn’t you do that?” He looked exasperated by Andrew, and Andrew had only said one thing. It was too easy to goad him. 

“How about I help if you help your attitude towards Nicky, hmm.” 

Luther narrowed his eyes as Andrew and raised his voice, “What Nicky feels toward that boy is completely disgu—”

“See,” Andrew interrupted, a jagged smile crossing his lips, “right there, that issue. If you fix that then I may be entitled to help you.”

At a standstill, Luther crossed his arms. He seemed to know he wouldn’t win, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Andrew’s demands. “Two bottles and we don’t talk about the topic for the rest of the night.” 

Andrew knew that wasn’t enough, would never be fucking enough for what they did to Nicky, for what they put other boys and girls through by making them feel as if their weren’t worth anything. Andrew wanted to shove the cross stationed about Maria’s kitchen down Luther’s throat, but that was for a different time. 

“Please.” Luther finished. Andrew’s smile could have cut glass in half, or hell. 

“You know I don’t like that word.”  
Andrew didn’t say anything else as he turned away from Luther and up the steps to grab the bottles of wine under the cabinet, since he had been here once before and had drunk half of them himself.

Andrew could feel the pounding of his pulse under his armbands and the drugs coaxing their way through his body, a feeling he both despised so much and yet loved for some twisted reason; that could have been why he didn’t hear someone come up behind him until it was too late.  
.  
.  
.  
Andrew was laughing. Laughing through the pain and the nightmares and the memories he thought the fucking drugs were supposed to be supressing. 

All he could hear through his pounding pulse was a door being slammed open; all he could feel was Drake's hand on his wrist, his body against his own; all he could taste was the salty tang of blood.

Then, like waking up from a nightmare, two of those things were gone. 

A crack resounded through the room, but Andrew couldn’t see. His face was currently buried in the pillow. He wished his whole body was buried six feet under. 

The feeling changed to sheets being pulled up over his body, and a voice whispering his name. He moved his head to see Neil there, covering up his bloody and bruised body. He knew somewhere deep inside that he was grateful Neil was here, that he had dealt with abuse like himself and Renee had and knew pain, but he just laughed. 

“Got quiet all of the sudden.” Andrew said. He flexed his hands to shake out the phantom touch of Drake. He knew something else came out of his mouth, but all he could think of was Drake five feet to his left, dead. 

Time passed quicker after the initial silence. He grasped onto Aaron, who was currently kneeling by the bed like he was confessing his sins or praying, like he should have when he first found out about the kind of mother Tilda was, but it was skewered. His mind was racing, wanting to get out of this room, this torturous space. His expressions and gestures on the other hand pinned this as a normal occurrence, to be in one’s blood and have been raped. 

Luther came into view. Andrew could see his silhouette behind Nicky, taking stock of the scene and looking surprised. Andrew laughed again, because that’s all he could do. 

“Hey Luther,” He said, breaking the silence like an iceberg cracking after an eternity of peace, “ do you still call this a misunderstanding? That what happened is ‘brotherly love?’ I believe hearing there were six more kids in that house after I left, even though you promised no more.” Everyone was watching as Andrew tore into Luther, their faces devoid of any look to interrupt him. “When I can get up Luther, I am going to kill you.”

Aaron was the first one to speak. He screamed at Luther, but Andrew’s mind was already charging toward the next task at hand before the Pigs showed up for him. Andrew turned to look at Neil, who was already paying attention. He couldn’t look too long at Neil; he couldn’t take Neil’s fake eye colour and lies right now. 

Andrew peeled off his armbands and handed them to Neil for safe keeping. Neil’s eyes immediately went to the scars and crosshatches that graced Andrew’s forearms. Andrew turned them away, and he saw Neil tuck the armbands under the bedding to keep safe for the time being.

Andrew was done now, he knew there was nothing left of him to do. He heard himself ask for quiet as he heard the faint police sirens slowly grow louder outside, and everyone obeyed him. 

He knew deep down this mess was only going to grow, that they would take him off his meds early now, but for now he savored the last dredges of silence surrounded by his family.

His family

~  
“I’ve tried everything and anything  
But nothing seems to work quite like it should”  
~  
Andrew’s apathy was laughable; it was a juxtaposition from how he appeared on the outside to what he felt on the inside. 

He wasn’t supposed to feel anything. 

He was feeling too much. 

Andrew’s grip tighten perceptible on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. Kevin  
didn’t seem to notice as he sat in the passenger seat of the car and stared out the window. Andrew wasn’t going to ever say this, but he was mildly impressed when he first saw Kevin earlier in the Rehab Center and found him still breathing. He didn’t know how to feel about this, that Neil could actually stay true to his word, but apparently Neil couldn’t help but be a martyr despite Andrew’s warnings.

Andrew had barely glanced at Neil when he first stepped outside, but when he did he almost lost it. It was laughable to his previous inebriated state for the past two years which allowed him no room for emotional turmoil, but now he couldn’t shut his damn feelings off and the state Neil was in didn’t help. 

Arriving at Fox Tower, Andrew shut off the car and got out. The others followed his example, looking uncertain of where they stood now that he was sober. Andrew’s eyes flicked once more to them all to make sure they would survive for now, and motioned for Nicky to stay. 

Nicky’s eyes widened, and he looked at Neil quickly before returning his gaze to Andrew. He saw Neil quietly take Kevin and Aaron back into Fox Tower, and turned to face Nicky. 

“Who put the bruises on Kevin’s neck?” Andrew asked, his voice sounding as monotone as his countancene looked. He had seen Kevin with the marks, one of the first things he had noticed out of his group besides Neil’s horrendous state, but Andrew needed to deal with one thing at a time. Neil would take a whole day and all of Andrew’s patience and self discipline.

Nickly cleared his throat. “Um, Matt,” he mumbled, clearly not wanting to rat Matt out, but more scared of what would happen if he didn’t tell Andrew what he wanted to know, “but that was when Neil came back and Kevin had—”

Nicky cut himself off as Andrew turned toward Fox Tower, done with the conversation. That was all he needed Nicky for at the moment, and it didn’t pay to hear the sob story that was Neil Josten’s life. He told himself that as his hands clenched when he remembered Neil’s appearance, and promised himself he would kill anyone who hurt Neil again, and then kill the martyr himself.  
.  
.  
.  
Andrew heard Neil’s footsteps grace the entrance to the roof. He quelled the cigarette and his churning stomach as Neil wound up next to him, the idiot not wearing a coat. 

They had been doing this for the past two weeks, Neil and him meeting up on the roof to smoke, and then for Andrew to slowly take Neil apart. Andrew didn’t know how Neil had gotten under his skin so fast, ever since the first time he had seen him sober at the airport, but Neil wouldn’t leave. Andrew didn’t know if he wanted him to anymore. 

He could feel Neil wallowing in self pity, which didn’t look good on him at all. Andrew knew something was going on with Neil, but he couldn’t figure it out yet. He wasn’t worrying though because he knew he had enough time to figure it out, or so he thought. 

“Stop it.” Andrew said, giving a cigarette to Neil and took out his lighter. He lit his, and Neil leaned in to light his own as well. This close Andrew could see the goosebumps elevated on Neil’s arms since he was always stupid enough to forget a jacket, and he could smell a mix of Neil’s deordorant and shampoo. He told himself that he didn’t like the smell, even if he took a deeper breath of air when next to him than necessary.

“What?” Neil asked, but they both knew he was stalling. “It’s just…” Neil started, clearly toying with how to state his next statement. “Wymack gave me the position for co-captain next year.”  
“So? I thought a junkie like you would be more than happy to fulfill his wishes, or were  
you planning on running after the season ends?” Andrew tried to say the last part casually, but in reality he didn’t know what would happen if Neil booked it after the end of the season. He tried to tell himself that he wouldn’t need Neil, that he could get his pleasure from Roland in the back of the storage room in Eden’s Twilight, but he knew he couldn’t anymore. 

The only thing his mind apparently wanted was a mouthy red-head with a martyr problem. 

‘I don’t want anything’, he said to himself. 

‘Liar’, his mind supplied back. 

“I’m not running anymore, I can’t.” Neil stated, and Andrew thought that answer was more than what he could divulge right now, but before he could say anything Neil continued. “Wymack asked me, but how can I tell him that I can’t keep this team together. I can barely keep myself from falling into pieces.”

Ah, there’s the issue. 

Andrew stubbed out his cigarette and stuffed one of his hands in his pocket to warm up his fingers, while Neil stared his cigarette like it was offering him a lifeline. 

“Wymack has issues, but he isn’t stupid. The only person worried about disappointing the team is yourself, so stop.” Andrew put a hand up before Neil could open his pretty little mouth. “No. The team, for some stupid reason, rallies behind you. You won’t fail. Dan will be in good hands when she graduates.”

Neil looked at Andrew like he was his savior, his answer to everything. Andrew pushed his face away and felt Neil smile. 

“So, you think I’m a good replacement for Dan?” 

“I think you’re a good replacement for the body at the local morgue. No one will know the difference until it doesn’t start spouting off about Riko or Exy.”

“Hmm, we could see, but I don’t think Wymack would like it if I died just yet. He wouldn’t get his money’s worth out of me.” Neil’s smile diminished at the last part of his sentence, but Andrew wasn’t here for more self pity. 

He took the extinguished cigarette from Neil, threw it over the roof, and started to kiss Neil senseless. It was a good distraction on both their parts, and neither of them were complaining. 

~  
“Between the madness and the apathy  
Seems there’s nothing left inside me that's good”  
~  
Andrew couldn’t find Neil. It was an instinctual thing by now to spot the martyr with his red-hair and attitude problem, but as Andrew scanned the parking lot after the police had quieted the riot, he saw nothing. 

Wymack was herding the rest of the Foxes onto the bus, but when he didn’t count Andrew in his line up he made his way over to him.

“Andrew, what are you waiting for. Let’s go. I have a bottle of whiskey on the bus for you to stupidly drink down.”

Andrew cut a look at Wymack that could have frozen hell. “I don’t see Neil.”

Wymack stopped his tirade and looked over at the rest of the team, recounting his numbers. Andrew could see the precise moment that he realized Neil wasn’t among them. 

“Fuck.” Wymack said, and then yelled to the rest of the Foxes that weren’t too badly injured to spread out and look for Neil before they got kicked out of the lot. Andrew didn’t wait for the others to start moving. 

He made a lap around the outside of the lot, looking for anything unnaturally bright, but didn’t see anything. Andrew’s mask on the outside was perfectly in place, but inside he was shaking with a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Fear.

It was on his second lap that he saw a duffle bag stationed by the doors outside the entrance to the stadium, and he sprinted over there just as Kevin made an appearance; he had seen the bag too, but was scared for another reason. 

Andrew dropped to the ground and pawed at the bag, finding Neil’s phone and his jersey. His keys were stuffed inside the bag as well, and Andrew could only stare at them as he remembered what Neil had said when they were inside. 

Thank you. You were amazing. 

The others had crowded around Andrew in the time it took for him to shake himself of the memory, but he couldn’t hear their incessant chatter over the roar of blood pounding in his ears. He grabbed Neil’s things not knowing what to do next, but Wymack appeared, telling everyone to get on the bus. 

Andrew walked up the bus steps but didn’t sit down. He had been the last one on and could only stare at the keys he had gifted Neil just last summer. Andrew knew Neil wouldn’t leave without them, and that only made the dread he felt worsen.

“Okay, listen up.” Wymack said, standing stoic by the bus seat. He waited for the rest of the Foxes to look at him before continuing. 

“I’ll call up the surrounding Medical Clinics to see if Neil was taken to any of them due to the riot, and until then everyone better stay calm or else I’m signing you all up for a marathon.” The last part of his speech was missing it’s usual tone, it was flatter and more spaced out. Andrew knew that Neil would never willingly go to a hospital, and so did the others, but they didn’t have anything else to go off of. 

Until Kevin spoke. 

“Neil’s not going to be at one.” It was almost at a whisper, but Andrew heard it crystal clear. 

“What?” The tone in his dead voice stopped the others from their nervous chatter. Renee went up to Andrew, a silent support, but all he could see was Kevin staring at the Wymack.

“Neil won’t be alive by morning, if he’s even still alive right now.”

The next thing Andrew knew, he was being pulled off of Kevin by Matt and Wymack. Renee stepped in too, and put herself between him and Kevin’s now bruised throat. Andrew didn’t care. He didn’t care that he had broken his own agreement to keep Kevin safe; Kevin had broken it when he didn’t tell Andrew enough to keep him and Neil safe.

Kevin looked distraught, but all Andrew did was squeeze his hands into fists before he attacked Kevin again. Andrew thought back to earlier on the bus, when Neil had asked for their deal to be over; Neil had known something was going to happen. Andrew grabbed Neil’s phone from his bag and flipped it open. All that showed was one message with the text “0” in it, and he realized that it was a countdown.

Andrew was going to skin Neil alive. 

He threw the phone at Kevin, more out of spit than to garner a reaction, but was rewarded with a choking sound when Kevin saw the number. Dan looked at Kevin, but all Kevin did was look at Wymack again. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care about sorry. What the hell is going on?” Wymack yelled, pointing between Kevin and Andrew. Andrew didn’t have an answer for that, but he knew Kevin did.

“Neil isn’t real,” Kevin started. He put his hand up when Nicky and the others started to yell at him for that statement, “his real name is Nathaniel.” At that Andrew stumbled. Aaron looked off guard by Andrew’s unsteadiness, but Andrew looked straight at Kevin. Neil had told him his real name, but Andrew didn’t know how Kevin knew as well. 

“The Moriyamas are connected to the Wesninskis, a crime syndicate inside of Baltimore. That’s where Nathaniel is right now.”

“Why the hell would Nathaniel be in Baltimore?” Allison asked, staring daggers at Kevin, “He doesn’t have anything to do with the Wesninskis or whatever the hell you said.”

Andrew barged in before anyone else could say something, “Who runs the Wesninski gang?” Andrew had a feeling he knew, but he couldn’t believe that he was this stupid. 

“They call him ‘The Butcher, but his real name is Nathan Wesninski.” 

Andrew could only stare at Kevin as the pieces fell into place, connecting a story Andrew should have seen when Neil gave him that truth.

Kevin finished. “Nathan is Nathaniel’s father.”  
.  
.  
.  
Martyr. Marty. Marty.  
Andrew’s mind could only supply that word as he barged into the room, Wymack on his heels as they were connected by a pair of handcuffs. Andrew wanted to tear them off, but he had a bigger issue to worry about. 

Pipedream. 

Andrew heard more than saw the Feds move towards him, their surprise evident by their loud complaints and warnings they issued. Andrew didn’t care, he only had eyes for one person. 

Neil was trying to suck in a breath, having pushed one of the Pigs away. He was hunched over, and Andrew quickly grabbed his shoulder to push him further down to the floor. He moved his hand off of Neil’s shoulder and went to the back of his neck, and Neil finally took in a ragged breath of air. 

Wymack was arguing about the restraints on their hands, but all Andrew could do was take in Neil’s appearance and try not to main the Pigs for allowing this to happen; trying not to allow himself to spiral down a rabbit hole for allowing Neil out of his sight. 

Never again. 

“I’m sorry.” Neil said to him, looking up at Andrew now that he could breath. Andrew’s fist clenched, and he wanted to do something, anything to take this pain away from Neil. Anger was evident in his body and eyes, but he knew Neil realized it was over what had happened to him. 

“Don’t.” Was all Andrew could say, all he could choke out before he lost it for good. He slowly started to take stock of the injuries Neil possessed, and peeled off the bandage on his cheek. Andrew was greeted with burn marks, circular and bloody. 

“Where did you get this?” Andrew asked in German. 

“A dashboard lighter.” Neil replied.

Nicky, who was stationed behind Andrew, whimpered. The others, not knowing German besides Aaron, went to take a closer look at Neil. Andrew couldn’t see their faces, but heard their exclamations and curses as they took in the sorry sight. Neil only continued to stare at Andrew, silently conveying his trust. He was up to 95%. 

Andrew knew that more happened, that the Pigs tried to pry Neil away from him and say some shit about the Witness Protection Program, but he wasn’t listening. Neil asked if he could stay, and Andrew wasn’t going to let him go. 

He protected his family, now and forever.  
~


End file.
